The Whiskey Conspiracy
by anders9898
Summary: Ben Nevis, a wasteland entrepreneur, makes a name for himself brewing a superior whiskey. There are some who would kill in the spirit of competition, Dixon is one of them. Dealing chems and his own brand of whiskey out of Freeside. Dixon is threat to the very livelihood of Ben's operation, not to mention his life. Chem dealers are just the start of Ben's problems in the Mojave.
1. Chapter 1

It was always the first thing I saw, that ugly monstrosity looming over an otherwise pleasant looking town, pleasant for the wastelands at least. Supposed to be some sort of creature that stomped around a horribly long time ago tearing shit to pieces. I guarantee if he saw his likeness molded into this tacky piece of shit he'd make sure there was some stomping.

I suppose visiting my old friend Bruce Isaac is worth the discomfort of beholding such an awful thing. Holed up in his hotel room, running from some decisions made with something other than his head, unfortunately. This was no life for a guy like him to live, a man of his talent should be sharing his gift with the world, especially a world as dark as this. One less light to illuminate the lives of these forsaken waste dwellers. Even if their troubles are only briefly forgotten, what a shame. I guess there's always whiskey if getting lit is all the illuminating you need.

Having been expecting me and on constant watch I had barely gotten to the door when he swung it open and hurried me in. I suppose you can never be too cautious when you've got the kind of people after you that Bruce does. But what did the guy expect, sleeping with the daughter of a guy like that AND stealing his cash. Man, did he just think he was going to saunter off into the night like a kid lifting from the cookie jar? I guess I can't be too hard on the guy, I have to say thats one fine girl he managed to sauntered his way into. Can't say I'd pass up the chance...

We exchanged pleasantries as old friends do, I couldn't help but notice his sunken eyes and pale complexion. Pale isn't exactly something you see everyday on a man of his skin tone. He seemed to catch the look of concern I tried to keep from him, I'm sure he has some idea how shitty he must look, least I could do was keep my look of astonishment from salting his wounds.

"That bad huh?"

"Shit Bruce when's the last time you slept?"

"You know how it is, can't keep watch for the bastards while I'm asleep can I? I've gone through almost all the mentats you brought last time... Even if I wanted to sleep I couldn't."

"Jesus christ, I was here last week and brought 6 boxes. You're going to have a fucking heart attack man."

"Better chance that than a bullet in my sleep."

"Whatever you say man, here I brought you some whiskey. Just bottled this one today. I didn't get a chance to age it at all, been hell trying to find oak barrels in this endless pit of burned up, ash covered, rad soaked excuse of a state.

"Hey man I'm not one to complain about free booze."

"Might as well call it gutrot at this point, but should take the edge off, even if it's closer to grandmas bathtub gin than whiskey."

"Heh, I'll never forget your grandmas hooch, it's what put these hairs on my chest. It was some nasty shit but I'll be damned if it didn't get you nice and liquored up in time for breakfast."

Bruce let out a long sigh and put his head down in his hands, something that looked too close to defeat seemed to break through the unwavering charisma Bruce never let falter. I'd never seen him like this, even after all terrible shit I'd managed to get him in, never like this. We sure did go through some shit, the wastelands do their best to destroy a guys spirit. Let yourself think you're in control and she'll swallow you like a starving dog does a stolen steak. That's all she is, a god damn flea ridden, rabid bitch. She's choking on a rotting piece of meat and can't resist taking another bite. I guess I can't blame her, for all she knows that's the last bit of meat she'll ever get.

I couldn't take seeing Bruce like this.

"Hey man why don't you get some rest and I'll stay here and keep watch for you."

"I don't know I couldn't ask you to do that. What about your place, you know how fast shit gets looted around here."

"Don't worry Duke's got the place covered, looks innocent enough when he's waggin' his tail but you don't notice the titanium teeth until they're so deep in your jugular that he's droolin' out your mouth.

Bruce let out a chuckle.

"Alright then, if you think it's a good ide.."

Bruce dozed off before he could finish his sentence. Patting him on the shoulder I grabbed a blanket and threw it over him, once I was satisfied he wouldn't fall off the chair I grabbed the bottle I handed him earlier and took a few swigs. It's going to be a long night.

A few swigs eventually turned into half a bottle, and not long after almost all of it. I was a little lit to say the least, but still capable of noticing a bunch of thugs coming up on an open courtyard, I was sure. I couldn't help but notice that damned Dino gift shop, of course it's in my view, it seems its sole purpose is to be a reminder of how much hatred one could have for an inanimate object. Maybe it was the hooch, or maybe just a plain hatred for something so ugly, but something drove me to stumble out of the hotel room and into the courtyard spitting vulgarities every step of the way. All of them directed at whoever decided this piece of shit would be a good thing to have towering over their town. Liquid inspiration filling my head with all sorts of bright ideas I reached into my bag and pulled out some explosives. I laughed a knowing laugh, some part of me knew this was the worst idea I'd ever had yet another part told me I've never had a better one. I took a moment to take in the tranquil surroundings, one of those moments of rare bliss that can only be found at the bottom of a bottle. Magical, I thought, how the world seems frozen in such peace. I laughed heartily at that, when was the last time the words peace made it off anyone's lips around here. Not wanting to give myself anymore time to talk myself out of this brilliant idea I slapped the explosives right over the ass of the abomination.

"This is for you, oh majestic beast of yore. For you were never meant to be such a disgraceful display of the fervent consumer culture of our vacationing forefathers, just looking for something to make their little shit kids shut up for long enough to hear their own thoughts, which were probably not much different than the gremlins they so eagerly silenced for a few dollars. Here's to America, where all the material shit your cholesterol laden heart could ever desire is just a gift shop away."

Letting out one last chuckle I put my lighter to the familiar green fuse that always seemed to bring a spark to an otherwise dark day. Ah, there it is, the sound of everything right in this world. Retreating a safe distance I almost squealed with delight. If only Bruce were out here for this. With that thought came the realization that I may have made a huge mistake. "Oh fuck. What have I done." The last thought I could muster before the combination of hooch and quite possibly an excessive amount of explosives put me down like a building the day it glowed.


	2. Chapter 2

I awoke in what seemed like a familiar place, but soon realized it was only as familiar as any generic hotel room could be. I was alone in the room with my friend David, both of us tied to chairs. There seemed to be some noise coming from the bathroom, doors shut, whoever put us in this situation was clearly preoccupied. Thinking quickly I worked the small razor I kept in my cuff out of its hidden bindings. I thanked my good wits, can never be too prepared in these times. While steadily working my way to the awkward positions required to slice my bindings I could see David giving me a look, one that said he was more sorry for the situation we're in than angry, I was surprised, after all, it was my poor ability to resist drinking myself into shit that got us here. I'm slipin', that much booze wouldn't have put me down in the past. Maybe I just needed a few more mentats, I'm not poppin' 'em like I used to. Doc in Goodsprings says they're no good for my health. I told him neither is a knife in my side because I wanted a peaceful sleep, that kind of peaceful sleep isn't the kind I'm looking for. More likely the fucker caught me off-guard and drugged me with some kind of inhalant.

Finally the bindings gave way, our captor still in the bathroom singing an old familiar tune while he squeezed last night's supper into this morning's audition for jazz alley. While untying David I noticed my bowie knife sat carelessly on the nightstand, our captor must not be such a pro. We made a mad dash for the exit but in our haste the commotion alerted our captor. The door to the bathroom swung open just as we were upon the exit. Even in my hung over and still slightly drunk state I calculated our odds, it seemed a lot of hot lead was in our future. Pulling David down with me on my dive to the floor a practiced flick of the wrist sent my bowie knife spinning toward our captor. The stunned, and then confused look on his face told me it had hit where intended. There's always that same confused look when my knives hits that sweet spot right between the eyes. I wonder if they figure it out before they hit the ground, I hope so.

After gathering my wits I wasn't quite sure where we were, seemed to be a hotel somewhere quite a ways north of us as I could make out the Vegas Strip lights in the distance. I turned to David and he just smiled and gave me a big hug.

"Damn brother you sure know how to throw that thing."

"Heh, it's all in the wrist," A feigned throw accenting my words.

"Hey, stay here for a sec'. I need to grab my knife."

I hustled back into the room and located the fallen captor. I decided it a good idea to search his body for any indicator of his intentions, although I suspect the obvious. David did have a pricey bounty on his capture. After wiping my knife on his trousers I pulled a note out of his side pocket, just as I thought he'd been hired to grab David. The handoff was due to go down in a few hours. Luckily my strong tolerance to drugs had made whatever he knocked us out with wear off sooner than anticipated, or maybe it was simply the mentats in my system. Either way I was thankful for my helpless yet functioning state of addiction.

I went out to tell David what I'd found. It's not as if he wasn't expecting it, so his lack of surprise was, well, unsurprising. We both agreed we weren't going to stick around to meet our friends from the casino. That battle was a losing one, we both knew, far too few guns, far too little alcohol. We sauntered off into the desert in the general direction of Goodsprings, David seemed to think he could find a place to lay low with a friend of his there. Having no place else to go I decided to accompany him, after all I have no real obligations at the moment. My whiskey hasn't had any buyers as it's not been aged yet, not selling moonshine; folks around here make enough of their own bathtub gin to keep the market smaller than it's worth.


	3. Chapter 3

I know when I start sending the first of these bottles out people 'll sell their shoes to get their hands on 'em. No one will be able to resist a whiskey done like they did pre-war. Might find a bottle or two in some rubble here and there but you mainly get the worst of it, all the good whiskey pre-war is mostly gone I suspect due to the desire for a fine drink in the moments before the bombs. Still run across a skeleton now and then just resting on a table with an empty bottle of their finest still in hand. I've my dad to thank for it all, teaching me from a young age the art. He never was a big thinker, keeping it between him and his friends, always told him he should sell it at the saloons. I suppose he was too busy drinking and surviving to think that far ahead. Now that there's some relative peace in these parts, if you could call it that, I think the time is right. I feel the people of these wasted lands need a fine drink. No, they deserve a fine drink.

A fair amount of my thought was thrown around in the hours that melted by, about the whiskey, the plans I had. We'd been walking all day now; our bearings were back about us, some of the way seeming more familiar. He seemed rather enthused with the idea and promised to set me up with some of his connections in New Vegas. Although I feigned appreciation I couldn't help but wonder whether his connections in New Vegas would be as thrilled to discuss business as he was.

The night was coming on and we needed a decent structure to put up in. Don't want to be caught in the open out here; all sorts of warped beast inhabit these foothills, the worst of them at night. There wasn't much in the area besides the occasional ruined structure, the frightening sounds of powder gangers and unknown bands coming from most of them filled the distance between us. Taken with drink and busy with whores they wouldn't notice us so far off, but I'd be a fool to get any closer. I couldn't help but wonder if my drink would end up as the fuel for the kind of parties these that could be heard this far off, I hope so.

In the distance we noticed an opening in the cliff side, a cave could make for a decent camp, out of the way, hidden, yet so often filled with vile inhabitants. We decided to take our chances and headed toward the opening. It was routine for anyone living in these parts, the stealth and recon required to check out the vital things like shelter. Tip-toeing through the entrance I poked my head around the corner, the heavy breathing and smell of fresh kill alerted me to the presence of some unknown beasts.

I decided it best to simply spook them out if possible, our kidnapper left us a pistol but I didn't find any spare ammo. Best we try and conserve the few bullets we have. I started a small fire just outside the entrance with my knife and some flint. David helped to gather some branches and dead vegetation in an attempt to craft a makeshift torch. It wasn't long before the torch was ready but night had fully fallen on us now, it was this or hitting the road in the pitch black. I turned to David and gave him a nod.

"Alright im gunna clear 'em out. Get ready to dodge some pissed of son's o' bitches."

"You got this man, aint nothin' to it. Show those bitches what's up."

David always seemed to have a way with words. I dashed into the cave firing a shot from the pistol while swinging the torch as wildly as I could. The torch lit up the cave revealing its inhabitants, a couple canines it would seem. Startled they dashed toward me, sticking the torch in their faces was enough to stop them in their tracks. A few singed whiskers seemed to be enough to turn their deep growls to howls, yelps, and whimpers. I thought it best to chase them around for a bit making sure they knew this was a place to fear.

David spoke up after a long bout of silence; he'd been hanging back through the ordeal, never much for a fighter. His talents were musical in nature, I didn't mind. I do the heavy lifting and he teaches me some tunes, nothin' like a sweet melody to bring in the ladies. That kind of instruction is priceless in these parts, especially from a legend like David.

We lit a fire in an empty barrel nearby, reveling in our victory. David threw me the harmonica, another trinket our pro kidnapper failed to find, always a treat to end the day with some tunes around the fire. It wasn't long before I was playing away at his instruction, wait 'till the ladies see me now!


	4. Chapter 4

As we left the cave for the morning's journey I couldn't help but take careful mental note of its location, seemed like a good place for a snooze if I found myself in the area again. I remembered something about these parts, as we passed a few landmarks that refreshed my memory; there was a large population of Deathclaws somewhere in the desserts around here. Not wanting to risk an encounter with one of the merciless predators we decided on heading east for a bit toward the mess of ruined buildings that scattered the wastes. It was Deathclaws or Powdergangers, the choice was obvious, at least with the Powdergangers you can find some much needed supplies or weapons on their bodies. All you find with the Deathclaws are insides full of recently consumed and undigested pieces of unlucky travelers. Not much of a market for Deathclaw hides either, fowl creatures all around.

It would seem things are starting to go our way, while besides being kidnapped anyway. David called out to me as I'd been scouting ahead, I retreated back to talking distance in a hurry as his tone was urgent. David was crouched in the sand digging away at a skeleton, no a bag on the skeleton. I watched with wild eyes as the thrill of the find froze me fixed only on the jangling sound I knew so well, glass on glass. We weren't finishing this journey dry from the sounds of it. Indeed it was, low quality hooch, but liquor all the same. We sipped our spoils merrily and continued on the trek, but now, slightly better men.

It wasn't long before the first buildings came into view, a few tall apartment buildings, something that resembled a factory, wait is that the sarsaparilla factory? I'd heard stories of people stumbling upon it and sneaking off with a few cases before the security droids could manage to find their charge. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to scavenge the area for some much needed supplies; the few things I've managed to find for my whiskey venture are makeshift pieces of junk, I'd kill for some proper equipment.

No matter how hard I twisted his arm I couldn't get David to follow me in, he insisted those droids would be the end of us. Realizing I wasn't going to give up so easily David declared he'd be fine traveling the rest of the way to Goodsprings alone. I hated the idea of leaving him on the road to fend for himself but he did find his way from the strip all the way to Novac just fine. In a pinch he can handle himself, I've seen him shoot when he needed to, those musical fingers of his lend a bit to his gun slinging, in fact I'd say his shot damn near beats mine.

I knew making my way back up here would be a huge challenge. My only chance to check this place out was now, wasn't about to make this trip twice if I didn't have to. I reluctantly sent David on his way, giving him the pistol I'd taken from our friend at the motel. In return he threw me his harmonica; I was pleased even if the trade did seem a little lopsided.

"Take care of yourself brother." David said while giving me a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"It's not me I'm worried about, ha. Listen if you get around to it I would appreciate a name drop here and there. Can't hurt to start spreading the word about my whiskey, get it on people's minds you know."

"Sure thing brother I'll sprinkle my usual rants at the saloons with some nice words about a whiskey with no match. Hell, I'll even write you a tune." David played the air sax and spat out a rhyme as catchy as any tune I'd heard in the Strip.

"With that kind of support we'll be running this place in no time, hell I bed people would chance the trip to this shithole from California just to get a taste."

"You know it brother; just don't forget about us little guys when you're at the top living in a suite somewhere in New Vegas."

"Hah if it all pans out I'll be getting as far away from this dump as I can, but if that doesn't happen I'd like to do something for the people, you know?"

"Like what? Give 'em even better whiskey?"

"Naw, like political you know. There's a lot of shit that goes down around here that aint right."

"Yeah man I see what you're saying."

"If someone could just bring these warring parties together, under one banner, we might just have what we need to get rid of those fucking bastards Caesar's Legion." My speech obviously influenced by the half bottle of hooch I'd been sipping.

David laughed a friendly chuckle.

"Man you 'been hanging around those Followers of the Apocalypse again?"

"It's not like that, I don't think being passive about The Legion is the thing to do. Those guys wont lift a finger unless they're getting blown up. Ain't nobody got time fo' that."

"We need a figure these folks can look up to, you know, kind of like that Jesus fellow. You've heard of him right? Mormons always going on about him."

"Aww yeah I know all about that guy, my trumpet player was as Mormon as they come."

"Just think, you me, a few others. We all dress in identical white robe traveling the wastes helping anyone we can. Soon people will start talkin' about the white robed wanderer who saved their skin. The thing that will get folks though, is that it'll seem like we're in five different spots at once, since we'll all be dressed alike."

"Man, you're going off the deep end, you huffin' that Abraxo again?."

I shook my head while stifling a laugh, haven't touched that shit in ages. I explained further, these ideas I've been rolling around needed a sounding board.

"Naw man, we start singing tales of this guy. You get up on a stage an' tell those people in the audience how the White Wanderer saved your dog from the clutches of a death claw, how he pulled little Johnny out of the sewer, hell tell 'em he's the savior. Sing it loud and proud brother."

"Well shit man, if you really think when you're riding the top on all that whiskey profit that you're going to put down your hookers and bourbon, I'll join ya, why the hell not."

I could tell he thought it farfetched, but I have confidence that when the time came he'd be up for it. With a final farewell we parted ways. I headed toward the factory just a mile or so away, no sign of life from here, but then again silence can be deceiving.

I waited until nightfall to make my way into the facility, there seemed to be some doors in the back but they were loading docks, surely the heaviest security would be around the product and its storage. I can't believe these damn droids; their owners couldn't have put a code in them that said in the event of an apocalypse function is no longer required? Bastards, at least I know a thing or two about the suckers, hopefully I can get a few on my side.

The door to the lobby creaked open with a gentle push, so far so good. I stepped carefully inside and was greeted by a moonlit room that appeared at first, unoccupied. I noticed after carefully scanning for bots there were a couple wooden barrels sitting near the front desk. Well I'll be damned, just what I've been looking for. Look at these things, nicely constructed, perfectly intact oak barrels. I couldn't have asked for a better find.

While pondering a way to carry these back to home base I was taken by surprise by something in the shadows, its whirling gears giving it away. I made a quick Dash toward it, knowing the only way to disable the droid was to open it up and prod at its insides. Luckily it seemed to have not finished identifying me, one second later and I'd be dodging lasers. I popped open a panel on its side with speed only the realization that death is seconds away can bring. Ah, there. The droid shut down momentarily and then started back up, this time as a friendly. I just hope there aren't too many of these piles of junk.

The next few hours were repeats of the first few moments in the building, jumping from bot to bot tweaking them all to recognize myself as an employee of the facility. Using the first droid as a distraction made the rest of the work much easier. Droid repair and manipulation was a vital skill to have, many of us who are alive today are so because we recognized the significance of learning these things. At least my family made it by that way, I couldn't count the times my father and I had to quickly disengage some hostile droid as we scavenged the ruins. Even had a few doing his grunt work, no chore was left to his hands.

When I had the building cleared I couldn't help but ponder the possibility of taking up permanent residence, yeah it was out of the way but think of the facilities. I'd have bots to bottle and stack for me, vats and scaffolding set up so that I could build a still of monster proportions. This place isn't exactly secluded though, I'm sure I'd have to fend off more than looters. Another time maybe, when my income allows me to purchase a small arsenal to defend this place perhaps. In the mean time I'll set all but one droid to patrol, and use one to carry what supplies I've gathered. It's going to be a long walk back.


End file.
